Mikko Lawrence

The doctor sent them on their way with printouts of physical therapy exercises and some bands to help Annie strengthen the muscle gently.  They were already settled up with the receptionist when they came out, Carlos standing and waiting for them.

Carlos opened the door for Annie and Mikko and followed them out.

“What’s the word?” Carlos asked as they reached the elevator.

“Old people disease,” Annie grumbled. 

Carlos raised a questioning eyebrow at Mikko.

“Arthritis,” he clarified.  They got on the elevator.

Carlos frowned thoughtfully.  “Huh.  Didn’t know you could get it that young.”

Annie glared at him.  Carlos glared back.

“Is it okay if we grab some ibuprofen on the way home?” Mikko asked in an attempt to distract them both.  He was used to Annie and Sloane doing this when they were younger, but it was even more exhausting when it was grown ass adults.

Carlos broke from glaring at Annie to nod at Mikko.  “Sure.  What did the doctor say?”

“He told me I couldn’t fight no more,” Annie growled. 

Carlos grimaced.  “Oh, que mala.  That sucks.”  He stepped out of the elevator first to lead them through the parking garage back to his car. 

Mikko reached over to take Annie’s hand, squeezing it.  She squeezed back absently, looking at the ground before her.  He could see the way things were ticking in her head.  She would be trying to figure out other ways to get income.  He knew because he had been thinking about the same thing ever since they had first decided to go to the doctor.

Carlos led them to where he had parked his black Lincoln.  It was a black beast of a machine—just small enough to be called a sedan, but large enough for three people to sit comfortably in the back seat without touching.  The windows were tinted to hell, probably just barely legal, if that.

Mikko helped Annie sit down in the front seat.  He got in the back, wincing at the feeling of the leather seats against his hands as he settled down.  He hated the feeling of leather.

He sat behind Carlos so he could see Annie better.

Seatbelts on, Carlos started the car and headed out.  The doors locked when he started driving.

The ride was mostly silent, broken by the occasional honk of a car horn, sometimes even the honk of Carlos’s horn. 

Mikko’s mind was filled with thoughts of what they were going to do.  Again, Mira’s jobs paid well, but they couldn’t expect her to front everything.  They needed to find a way to replace Annie’s income.  Mikko had reassured Frankie the night before that they would be fine if Annie lost the fight because of the money he and Genie had made.

But now, knowing that the money they had right now was finite, without an idea of a future income source, he was lost.  They could get by on pickpocketing when they weren’t living with Mira.  They would squat in abandoned buildings, they would steal, and they were fine.

But Annie wasn’t in any spot to live like that again.  Not with her hip.  And anyway, he and Annie had to be home for Lina while Mira was gone.  They were the only adults.

Maybe he could sell plasma.  There were nearby places that would pay for it.  He had done it a few times in the past and it paid about a hundred per draw.  But that only got him so far.  They only allowed 4 weeks between draws and most of the places around here had a centralized database as he had learned the last time he tried to change locations.

No one would allow him to go back to dealing, and he wouldn’t do it anyway.  It would be too much temptation.  And it would break the trust he had steadily rebuilt over the past few years since he had gotten clean.

“You okay, pibe?” Carlos asked.

Mikko looked up to see Carlos was watching him in the rearview mirror.

“Fine,” Mikko said, giving him a quick nod.

Carlos eyed him but didn’t call him out on the lie.

They pulled into the parking lot of a CVS, and Carlos put the car into park.  The locks popped open.  “I’ll be right back,” he said, unclipping his seatbelt.

“Wait,” Mikko protested, reaching to undo his own seatbelt.

“Relax and stay in here,” he said, closing the door behind him, leaving the car running as he ran into the drugstore.

Annie made a noise of annoyance, shifting in her seat.  Mikko watched as she reached into her pocket and pulled out a twenty.  She opened the center console and stuffed it in there.  She glanced at Mikko, who nodded in approval.  She, like him, hated feeling as if she couldn’t take care of herself.

They sat in quiet.  Mikko leaned his head against the window, looking out at the parking lot.  The CVS was at an intersection of a busy street and a residential street.  There was a bus stop with a couple of people waiting for the bus.  They were maybe five or six blocks from Mira’s house.

“What?” he heard Annie murmur.

Mikko looked up to see her looking out the tinted window to where a cop stood, hand up in a knock on the window.  Mikko hadn’t heard the knock; it was on the side of his bad ear.

Behind the cop, Mikko saw a cop car parked three spaces away with no lights on or anything.  Was he here for the drugstore?  Why was he knocking on the window?

“Roll down the window,” he heard the cop say through the glass.  It was muffled.  Mikko realized he was holding up a square to the window and Mikko recognized it.  It was a comparison square, to compare if the tinting on car windows was legal or not.

Annie glanced at Mikko, eyes wide.  He could see the whites around her jade irises, hear the way her breath hitched.  He himself was tense, the muscle in his jaw jumping against where he clenched his teeth.

The cop was a white man in full uniform wearing sunglasses.  He had a dark moustache and thin, angry lips.  He looked vaguely familiar.

“I think that’s one of our beat cops,” Mikko whispered.  They were close to Mira’s house.  They had come across their own beat cops more than once.  Not a single one of them was pleasant.

“Fuck,” Annie whispered, trying to shrink into her seat.  He heard the quiver in her voice.  The cop couldn’t see her, not through the glass.

But when he bent over to look through the windshield, he could see Annie.  His eyebrows furrowed over his sunglasses.  Even behind the sunglasses, Mikko could tell he recognized Annie. 

He knocked harder on the window.  “Ma’am, open the door.”  Mikko saw his hand disappear below the window and then the door to Annie’s side was opening without her permission.

Annie grabbed it back and yanked it shut before the cop could.  She hit the lock button on the door and every door in the car locked.

The cop took a step back, his hand going down to his gun.  “Unlock the door,” he ordered.  “Open it and step out slowly with your hands up.”

Annie was shaking, looking wildly from the cop to Mikko.  Mikko was just as lost as she was.  This had never happened to them.  They had boosted a car here or there, but they had never gotten caught before.  And they hadn’t even boosted this car.

The cop reached for where his walkie-talkie was attached to his shoulder.  He muttered something into it that Mikko didn’t catch.  But Annie did.  “What the fuck?” she whispered.

“What?” he asked.  “What did he say?”

“He said that he needed back-up for a stolen car,” she hissed, looking wildly between the cop and Mikko.  “Said he thought we were armed and dangerous.” 

Fear poured like cold water down his back.  He shook against it, ice gripping his spine.  They had dealt with the cops many times, but they had never been trapped like this.  Usually they were somewhere where they could at least try to run.

There was a thump on the car, and Mikko flinched.  He looked to see Carlos standing in front of the car, a plastic bag resting against the hood. 

“Can I help you, officer?” Carlos asked.  It was muffled by the windows and the sound of the engine, but Mikko could just make it out.

“Sir, step away from the car,” the cop replied.  “This is a stolen vehicle.”

Carlos looked from the cop to the car.  “Excuse me?  Stolen?”

“Sir, you need to step away from an active crime scene.”  The man’s hand hadn’t left his gun.

“This is my car,” Carlos said.  “What active crime scene?”

The cop stopped, staring at Carlos.  Mikko couldn’t tell with the sunglasses, but he thought the cop looked surprised.

“There’s a girl in there . . .” the cop started.

“Yes?” Carlos said, in a tone that challenged the cop to continue.

“She’s a known car thief,” the man mumbled.

Carlos looked from Annie to the man.  “As far as I understand, she has never been charged with car theft.  So . . .”

Which was true.  She had been suspected, but no one could prove it.  It had usually been Sloane who boosted cars back in the day.

The sound of sirens wailed behind them, and Mikko turned to look out the back window to see four more police cars pulling into the parking lot from every entrance.  They each skidded to a stop, cops getting out, guns already drawn. 

Carlos let go of the bag of medicine, letting it rest on the hood of his car.  He slowly put his hands up as multiple shouts of, “get down!” echoed through the parking lot.  The people at the bus stop were staring at them now, as were people standing outside of the CVS, either about to walk in or just walking out.  They were all frozen in their tracks, watching the altercation.

Carlos didn’t even blink.  He moved his head slowly, looking from the original cop to the four others, some behind the door of their cars, others just next to closed doors.

“This is my car,” Carlos called out.  “I have the registration papers, and my ID, saying that this car belongs to me, Carlos Jimenez Vásquez.”

Mikko rolled down his window just a bit to hear what was being said.  Things were muffled enough that he was struggling to keep up.

He was rewarded with hearing one cop say, “Wait . . . that Carlos Vásquez?”

Carlos looked past the car, at one of the cops surrounding him.  “Yes,” he said.  “That Carlos Vásquez.  And unless you want me to bring a lawsuit that will get every single one you suspended, let me leave with my car and my friends.”

Mikko looked to see that the original cop was slack-jawed, staring at Carlos.

“Barkley!” someone shouted.  The cop closed his mouth, head jerking to look at whoever had called his name.

“Get in your car and go.”  Mikko looked back to see another cop, some older man, giving the orders.  He saw some cops were already either in their car or in the process of getting into them, doors slamming.  “We’re leaving.”

“But . . .” Barkley said.  “The window tint . . .” 

“Is fine,” the other cop finished.  “We’re leaving.”  And with that, he got back in his car.

Carlos stood where he was, waiting and watching while every cop, including Barkley, got back in their cars, turning off their lights and sirens.  It wasn’t until every single cop car was out of view that Carlos picked up the bag from the hood.

He tried to open the door, but it was locked.  Annie scrambled to unlock the door and Carlos got in, handing the bag back to Mikko who put it in his lap.  It was warm from resting on the car.

Carlos’s face was grim, looking from Mikko to Annie.  “Are you okay?” he asked Annie.  She was still shaking.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” she said, her voice just enough on the growly side to not be called a whine.

He nodded, putting on his seatbelt and putting the car in reverse.  The doors locked the minute he started driving.  He pulled out and left the parking lot.

“He was testing the tint on the window,” Mikko said when the tense silence in the car became too much.  His fear had faded, leaving in its place a sense of helpless anger.

“Fucking pigs,” Carlos snarled.

“He’s one of our beat cops,” Annie said.  Even though she was shaking, her voice was steady.  “He’s going to make our lives a living hell.” 

“I will make sure that isn’t the case,” Carlos said.  His knuckles were white on the wheel as he turned onto their street.

“Mob pays mob lawyers?” Mikko asked, remembering what he had said about doctors earlier.

“Mob pays cops,” Annie answered before Carlos could.

“Cut out the middleman,” Carlos growled darkly.  “I’ll make sure that cop is neutered within an inch of his life from retaliating against you.”

“Until he talks to his buddies,” Annie laughed bitterly.  She glared out the window.  She had stopped shaking.

Carlos glanced at Annie.  “They won’t bother you.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“Annie,” Mikko said.

Annie glanced back at Mikko.

“Those cops left the minute they heard Carlos’s name.  I watched.  Even before the one guy told everyone to leave.”

“Like I said, they won’t bother you.”  Carlos brought the car to a stop.  Mikko looked up to see they were in front of Mira’s house.

Annie shrugged.  She wasn’t so sure, but she wouldn’t argue.  She would keep it to herself.

“I’ll be by in a few days to check on you,” Carlos said, unlocking the car for them.  “If not me, then Timber or Arnie.”

Annie didn’t say anything, getting out of the car.  He could see her frustration from the hunch of her shoulders as she walked around the front of the car, headed for the front door.

“Thanks,” Mikko murmured, opening his door.

“Any time, pibe.” 

Mikko followed Annie to the front door.  He pulled out the house key on its keychain, an ordinary silver key with the exception of the red plating around the perimeter of the key and unlocked it.

Carlos didn’t leave until they were through the door.  Mikko heard, muffled through the front door, when he pulled away and drove off.

Annie collapsed on the couch, groaning as she did.

Mikko stepped into the dining room, putting the drugstore bag on the table.  He pulled out a two-pack of five hundred tablets of ibuprofen, followed by three boxes of icy hot patches of different sizes.  Mikko smiled, setting them down on the table. 

“Ibuprofen?” he asked.

“Please.”

He nodded, heading into the kitchen.  Before he could step on the linoleum tile, he stopped short.

Huge glass shards lay in the sink, below the lone window in the kitchen.  It was a two-piece window, with one piece that slid up.  Each piece had six panes of glass separated by wood.  Two of the panes were broken, jagged around the edges.  The wood between the two panes was cracked clean through.  The screen outside was torn into shreds.

One of the cabinets across from the sink, below the counter, had a huge splinter of wood sticking out from the grain.  On the floor, as if it had bounced off the cabinet, was a brick.  Two words were written on it in white paint.

Halfborn traitor